


Looking After Each Other

by Hours_Gone_By



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Cleaning, Consideration, Detailing/Polishing (Transformers), Energon, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Feeding, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Grooming, Hand Feeding, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, NaNoWriMo 2019, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Or Working On Anything Else I Should Be, Seriously just a bunch of stuff that happens, Singing, Sleep, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trust, looking after each other, self-care, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: It's been a long, hard, exhausting week for both of the lovers. Jazz and Prowl look after themselves by looking after each other.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	Looking After Each Other

Jazz's love was sprawled over their bed, solidly in recharge, so deeply under that he didn't stir when Jazz gently called his name. Prowl might be asleep, but Jazz had orders from Ratchet to make sure he got some fuel and sooner rather than later. Jazz went over to the bed and crouched down to look into Prowl's sleeping optics.

"Hey, there," Jazz crooned. "Hey, Prowler, baby. Gotta wake up for me for a breem, okay? Time to fuel. Doctor's orders. C'mon, now."

Prowl had a sharp, quick mind that Jazz just absolutely loved, but Jazz also loved the way Prowl woke up when he had the luxury of waking at leisure: slowly, sleepily, and with the faintest little frown.

"There you are, love," Jazz said softly, and reached out to brush his fingers over Prowl's cheek. "Can you sit up for me? Got a cube here for you."

"…tired."

"Yeah, I know. Got to drink a cube, though. Ratchet says you need it, and you don't wanna disobey the doc, do you? Come on." Jazz stood up and wedged himself onto the bed, sitting up next to Prowl. Prowl let Jazz tug him up and hold him, burrowing into Jazz's arms as deep as he could. Jazz sighed fondly and subspaced the cube he'd brought with him, bringing it up to Prowl's lips. "C'mon, then, lover. Just a sip?"

"Mm." But Prowl did sip at the cube, slowly at first, and then after a half a klik, he began to drink in proper mouthfuls. But he didn't take the cube, letting Jazz be the one to feed him.

Jazz chuckled affectionately. "Okay, then. Need me to look after you for a bit?"

"…please?"

"Sure thing, my love," Jazz said gently. "You look after all of us, you ought to get your turn to have someone look after you." He readjusted his hold on Prowl and sat there holding the cube while Prowl drank his fill. "Finished it, there you go," Jazz said approvingly and dispelled the empty cube. "Did good, Prowl."

"Mm." Prowl nestled back down against Jazz. "Stay?"

"Can't, love," Jazz said regretfully. "Got to go debrief my team." Which usually meant talking some of his agents down at least a little bit. "Can stay for just a little bit, though. Make sure you get back to sleep. Fuel's important, but so's rest."

Prowl put his head down on Jazz's chest. "Sing to me?"

"Yeah, Prowler. 'Course I will." Jazz stroked Prowl's helm, smiled as Prowl's optics went offline. " _Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.' Birds singing in the sycamore tree, Dream a little dream of me…_ "

Prowl sighed contentedly, slumping against Jazz and growing heavier with each stanza. By the final refrain, he was asleep as thoroughly as he had been when Jazz came in, if not more. He was warm and sweet, and Jazz deeply regretted having to leave him instead of curling up together to doze for a while.

"Gonna come back, my love," Jazz promised, easing away from Prowl and carefully lowering the mech back down onto the bed, making sure he was arranged comfortably. "Soon as I can. You just go on and rest." He bent down and kissed the centre of Prowl's chevron. "Love you, Prowl of Praxus."

Jazz turned the temperature in the bedroom up a few degrees and closed the bedroom door for that extra bit of soundproofing. Prowl liked it warm and quiet when he slept, especially after a week like the one he'd had, ending with the most recent grouping of battles against the Decepticons. He'd appreciate the extra warm room if Jazz wasn't there to cuddle up with. Now Jazz just had to go talk down a handful of twitchy Spec Ops agents, and then his day was his own.

Well. Probably it'd be Prowl's, but Jazz was okay with that. Taking care of a needful, exhausted Prowl did just as much for Jazz as it did for the strategist. No matter how wild things got outside their quarters, inside them, they could always make things right by looking after each other in their own way.

* * *

The debriefing was just as rough as Jazz had expected and more afterward when everyone else had left, and Mirage stayed to break down a little bit further in safety. Jazz had given him that, been there for his friend and agent as long as Mirage needed, then called Smokescreen to bring him back to their quarters. Exactly what the relationship between the two was, Jazz had never asked, but it seemed healthy, and beyond that it wasn't any of Jazz's business. Mirage was safe and in good hands, and now Jazz needed to go and be safe in his own pair of good hands.

Prowl was up when Jazz got back, though he couldn't have been up for long because he still had his cute, faint, little morning frown on. Jazz immediately went over to kiss it away, then hugged Prowl and just stood there in his arms for a while. Prowl rested his chevron against Jazz's forehelm and waited patiently for him to say something. Jazz shut his visor off, damped down his sound receptors and let himself feel. They stayed that way for a little over a breem and then Jazz sighed and pulled back slightly.

"Better?" Prowl asked softly.

Jazz sighed again, heavily. "I will be."

"What do you need from me to help you recover?" Prowl wanted to know.

"Need to look after you," Jazz told him, even though he and Prowl had been together for so, so long and Prowl knew full well what Jazz needed. Jazz still needed to hear the questions and give the answers. "Fed you earlier, don't know if you surfaced enough to remember that." Prowl had been monosyllabic, and when he got like that, he was either deep in thought, or he wasn't awake enough or in a place where he wanted to talk.

"Mm, a little. I remember you coaxing me into drinking it, and I remember you held me, and you were strong and warm." Prowl shut his optics off as Jazz lifted a hand and caressed his helm. "Thank you for being strong for me."

"Welcome, love." Jazz pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Prowl's mouth. "C'mon. Lie down again and let me check you over."

"Very well."

Prowl lay patiently and let Jazz move him as he wanted while the saboteur examined him, noting dings and scratches, straightening out kinked and twisted cables and tensors. Jazz turned him over and finished his check, then got out a cleaning kit filled with delicate brushes and picks, thin oil for door articulations, and soft cloths, a precious remnant of Praxus before the Fall. Oh, sure, they were still manufactured – Wheeljack wasn't going to let anyone with Prowl's superstructure-type go without proper maintenance – but Prowl insisted they weren't the same. Jazz was pretty sure it was emotional attachment rather than _just_ the tools being superior, but he didn't say anything. Prowl wouldn't even let Jazz use this for regular maintenance, just when he wanted a little special pampering, like now.

Jazz got to work, carefully cleaning the articulations for Prowl's doors: brushing them clean even where they descended below Prowl's armour, picking out grit, then working the oil in as deep as he could. He let the oil soak in for a klik, while he massaged Prowl's lower back, then wiped away the excess oil. The soft cloths and a dab of polish brought the metal of the articulations to a high shine, and he heard Prowl sigh in pleasure.

"You're so good to me," Prowl murmured. "Thank you, love."

Jazz bent down and kissed the back of Prowl's helm. "Not done with you yet, either. Just lie there and let me look after you, okay, baby?"

Prowl dipped his doors in acknowledgement; Jazz was pleased with the smooth movement. "Yes, Jazz."

Jazz cleaned the picks and brushes and put the kit away just as he'd found it. Then it was time for filler, touch-ups, and a thorough polishing. Detailing Prowl, filling in his scratches and restoring his paint, oiling each separate joint, rubbing ointment into bare protoform, bringing his armour to a glossy shine…Jazz loved it. Each piece of maintenance he performed on Prowl was one more thing he could control, that he could make right. He was careful, going slowly, making sure he got each separate mark and brought every millimetre of armour to the same high gloss. When he finished, Prowl was lying on his back, spread out, and so relaxed he'd fallen asleep. Jazz, feeling much better, tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth. Prowl didn't stir. That was fine. Jazz had settled enough that he could bring himself down the rest of the way. He queued up some soft, soothing music on his internal systems and lay down next to Prowl, curling up on his side so he could watch his lover: perfected, polished, and calm. Everything in here, for now, was as good as he could make it, and Jazz finally let himself relax. Later he'd have to go out again, take control over the chaos, cause a little too, but for now…for now, he and Prowl could be safe, just for a while.

Just a little while.

* * *

Jazz was kissed awake some joors later by his polished and smiling lover, who was kneeling above him.

"Hey, gorgeous," Jazz said, leaning up into the kisses. "How're you feeling?"

Prowl pushed Jazz gently onto his back, one of the only mecha Jazz would let handle him like that and leaned over him.

"Like returning the favour."

"Won't say 'no' to that," Jazz agreed, relaxing.

"I thought not," Prowl said a little smugly. His expression was soft and fond, though. "I love you, Jazz."

"Yeah, Prowl," Jazz said, letting his optics flicker off as Prowl began to kiss his throat. "Love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from _Dream A Little Dream of Me_ , first performed in 1931 by Ozzie Nelson, and covered over sixty times since. Music by [Fabian Andre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fabian_Andre) and [Wilbur Schwandt](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilbur_Schwandt), lyrics by [Gus Kahn.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gus_Kahn)


End file.
